Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (19 page)

I recoiled from him. “You’re wrong.”

He gave me a patient look. “Lying’s an acquired talent. Takes
years to master. I should know. Bishop knows the truth, doesn’t he? It’s one of
your lovey-dovey secrets. Something I’m betting my bottom dollar that he told
you not to reveal to any of the rest of us. Cue dramatic music.”

I needed to stay calm and not give anything away. He was just
fishing, looking for information. Trying to read my expression. Kraven, despite
his troubled past, was a demon. A troublemaker. He wanted to make this difficult
for me. It was in his nature.

“Whatever, Kraven,” I said smoothly. We’d reached my house and
I didn’t hesitate to go up the driveway. I stopped at the front door before I
braved another look at him. “You seem to know everything, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately not. But I know enough. I’ve seen enough.” He
swept his gaze down the front of me. “All that supernatural energy in such a
petite body. You’d think it might burst right out of the seams.”

He knew. Without even saying the exact words, without any
confirmation from me, he’d figured out my secret. Bishop had put such fear into
me about anyone finding out. I was frozen to the spot, unable to move.

I turned away from him to face my front door, trying to figure
out a way to fish into my jeans and pull out my dagger. I reached for the
waistband.

He grabbed my wrist. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. And
you don’t have to make a pathetic attempt to reach for your little weapon. I
mean, let’s not get insulting here.”

“I can zap you even without a weapon,” I said through clenched
teeth.

“You can try. But it would be a waste of time. I’m not planning
on telling anyone your little secret, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

I turned to face him. “Maybe I don’t trust you.”

“Smart girl. And you’re smart not to trust my brother, either.
If you’re not careful, he might put a knife in your back like he did with
me.”

He let go of me, and walked away without a backward glance. I
watched until he’d disappeared into the shadows before I scrambled for my key
and let myself into the house.

The demon knew my secret.

And the scariest thing was, at this very moment, that was the
least of my problems.

Chapter 18

Cassandra knocked quietly on my bedroom door at one
o’clock when she got back to the house. “Samantha, are you still awake?”

I pulled my sheets up to my neck and tried to be quiet.

Go away,
I thought.
I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk to
anyone.

After a minute, my ruse worked. I listened as she padded down
the hall toward the guest room.

I wasn’t a huge fan of hiding from the world and my problems,
but tonight I would do just that.

Sleep was elusive, as it usually was lately. I drifted from one
nightmare to the next, tossing and turning until I finally woke up just before
six o’clock, twisted in my sheets so much it took effort to unravel myself.

I didn’t try to sleep again. Instead, I got up, showered and
got dressed.

I choked down a large breakfast in the hope that it would ease
my hunger this morning. I didn’t know how it was possible, but I was
more
hungry after I’d finished than I’d been to start
with.

Increased hunger. Increased
cold.

Both signs of oncoming stasis.

I wanted to hate Stephen, figuring somehow that might make
everything easier, but the fear I’d seen in his eyes last night had quickly
worked its way under my skin. I wished he would have let me try to help him.
Instead, he’d run in the opposite direction as fast as he could.

We all choose our path to walk. Even by not choosing, we’re
still making a choice that will affect our lives for better or worse.

I left the house before Cassandra got up, hoping to avoid any
discussions with the angel that might involve what happened last night and the
topic of Bishop—because thinking about
him
right now
wasn’t going to help.

It was still bright and early when I got to school—my
sanctuary. The place where I felt the most in control of my life. I might not be
the most popular kid, not even close, but I knew what to expect. I got good
grades, my teachers liked me; I felt like I belonged. Just the sight of the
lockers, shiny linoleum floors and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights gave
me a welcome sense of calm. At least, a small piece of it.

I stared at Carly’s abandoned locker for a full minute before
opening my own next to it.

“Why do you always worry so much?”
she’d say when I was down or overwhelmed about something. Pick a topic, there
was always something on my mind causing me angst.
“Worrying
doesn’t change anything. And it’s a complete waste of energy.”

“Plus, it causes wrinkles,”
I’d add
drily.

“Exactly!”

Don’t worry, be happy. Yeah, easier said than done.

I slid down to the ground, pulling my legs in to hug them to my
chest. Today I wore black opaque tights and a skirt that fell to my knees. Much
easier access to the dagger if I needed it. I touched the reassuring outline of
the gold knife through the garment. Just to be annoying, my mind immediately
delivered an image of Bishop kneeling in front of me, his warm hands brushing
against my skin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tried to breathe normally and
attempted to focus on what I was going to do next. Thinking about Bishop was a
distraction, even on good days, and right now I didn’t need to be more
distracted than I already was. I told him I’d find the answers on my own. I’d
meant it.

Last night, however, I’d been way more confident. Today...well,
today just seemed hopeless.

Then again, Tuesdays had never been my favorite day of the
week.

Someone nearby made a sound of disgust, an “ugh” that made me
crack one eye open to see who was at school as early as I was.

Jordan stood in front of me with her arms crossed over her
chest.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Free country, last time I checked. You?”

“I have stuff to do.”

I couldn’t help notice the dark circles around her eyes. Since
I was certain they were from sleepless nights thinking about Julie’s suicide, I
chose not to mention them. I didn’t like Jordan, but I wasn’t that cruel.

“Stuff to do at seven in the morning?” I asked.

“I wanted to get an assignment done early.”

“Good for you. Don’t let me stop you.”

Jordan rummaged through her purse and something fell and hit my
leg. I reached for the business card and pack of gum.

“Give that to me.” She thrust her hand out to me
impatiently.

It was the card to the modeling agency—the one the scout had
given to Julie. “Why do you still have this?”

She snatched it away from me. “Because I’m going there. I just
need to drop my assignment off at first period, then I’m out of here. I’m going
to find out if I’m right—that there was something strange about that woman.”

I pushed myself up to my feet and looked at her warily. “Not a
good idea.”

Her expression only became more determined. “There’s something
strange going on in Trinity.”

She worried me when she said stuff like this. Knowledge was
power—but it could also be dangerous. And in some cases, deadly. “It’s a big
city. There’s always strange stuff going on.”

“Stranger than normal.” She let out a shaky sigh and rubbed her
eyes, which made me realize she wasn’t wearing any makeup today. Not a stitch.
For an aspiring model who prized her beauty more than her brains, this was more
surprising than anything else. “It’s like...I don’t know, it’s like I’m the only
one who can see it. Everyone else goes about their days normally, like they
don’t realize there’s something horribly wrong. But I see it. I
feel
it. And what happened to Julie, it—it just made
everything more real. I can’t ignore it anymore. I need to figure out the
truth.”

What Seth was rambling about last night, about the girl who
fell—I was sure he meant Julie. But then he confused me, as he tended to do, and
I’d mostly forgotten it. But still, why would he mention her if there wasn’t
something truly wrong about her death?

“I know you’re in pain,” I said evenly. “But you should calm
down.”

“I’m not going to calm down. Julie... She wasn’t suicidal. Not
at all. I keep going over and over and over it in my head. She was fine. And
then something changed.” Her face was etched in confusion and despair as her
green eyes tracked to me. “Do you know there’ve been twenty suicides in less
than a week? And none of them were clinically depressed.”

My chest clenched at the news. “How do you know this?”

“When I want to find things out, I find things out. Nothing
stops me. I talked to the police—I told them about Eva, but they don’t think
it’s anything worth investigating.” She let out a strangled cry of frustration.
“So annoying! They think Julie was some kid depressed over a guy who decided she
was finished living. But it’s not true. I lost her. And I—I lost Stephen. I’m
losing everyone I love.”

Hearing her pain so acutely, with no filters, made my own heart
start to ache. And she didn’t even know the truth about Stephen. To her, he was
just a jerk who’d dumped her with no explanation, not a guy who’d broken up with
her to try to save her life. “I’m so sorry. Really. Maybe you should see the
guidance counselor again. She might be able to help you.”

She composed herself, rubbing her eyes, and stroking her red
hair back from her face to tuck it behind her ears. “I don’t need help. I need
answers.”

We had that much in common. The sheer determination I saw on
her face worked to nudge mine back into consciousness this morning, like downing
three espressos in a row.

But I worried that she was chasing her tail, and all she’d get
from her frenzied search for the truth was more disappointment. “You honestly
think that modeling scout did something to Julie? Like...she took away her will
to live? With, like, a single touch?”

“Yeah.” Jordan fixed me with a bleak, scared look that betrayed
her usual calm, cool bitchiness. “That’s exactly what I think she did.”

Then she was gone.

I watched her walk away, part of me wanting to stop her. If I
tried, I knew I’d fail. She was bound and determined to play Nancy Drew over
this mystery.

If Julie had been kissed by a gray, then I might be able to
wrap my head around an outside influence changing her personality. But it
wouldn’t have happened that fast.

Jordan had her own path to follow, and nothing I said would
have stopped her.

Part of me wanted to worry about her—the other part knew I had
enough to deal with without adding this to my list. What I really needed was to
find balance in my life again, even if it was only for a few hours of school.
Here I was normal. Out there...I wasn’t.

Bishop always talked about balance and how important it was to
the universe. Well, the balance of me being a perfect student with me being the
daughter of a demon and an angel, as well as a gray with the dark hunger I dealt
with daily...

Yeah. I desperately needed to restore my balance. Maybe then I
could figure everything else out.

Over the next two hours, the halls slowly began to fill with
kids, moving to their lockers, heading for first period. Outside my English
class, Kelly caught up with me, grabbing my arm before I went into the room.

“You going to Noah’s party tomorrow night?” she asked, her face
flushed. She was rarely early for any class, and I knew she always peeled into
the parking lot with literally minutes to spare.

“Oh, right. The Halloween thing at his house?” I asked.

She nodded excitedly. “But it’s not at his house anymore. He’s
found an even better place for it. It’s going to be amazing.”

“Sounds...amazing,” I forced out.

“I’ll email you the deets when I get them. There’s literally
going to be, like, two hundred people there. I’m going as Aphrodite. Sabrina’s
going as a witch, which is so expected, really.” She rolled her eyes, but her
smile didn’t fade. “You should be a cat. Like, a sexy cat.”

A sexy cat. Right. Kelly knew me so well. “Great. I’ll, um,
think about it. Okay?”

Halloween costumes and parties...not on my priority list this
week.

Kelly sped away down the hall toward her Trig class, and I
entered my English class. My eyes were drawn immediately to Colin, slouched in
his seat behind my desk. I approached cautiously, trying as hard as I could to
ignore the hunger that grew with each step. I clutched my books and binder tight
to my chest.

He looked upset, pale. I hoped he wasn’t still blaming himself
for Julie’s suicide. He’d made some dumb choices, but he hadn’t been the one to
push her. She’d jumped of her own free will.

At least, I thought she had. Jordan had other ideas about
that.

Jordan was right about one very important thing—there were
weird things going on in Trinity right now. That was the reason Bishop and the
others had been sent here in the first place. And it only made me more certain
that getting him to focus on that instead of me had been the right decision.
They didn’t need or want my help—unless I spotted another searchlight. If that
happened, I’d let them know immediately. Beyond that? I needed to stay out of
their hair.

And that was exactly what I would do. Here in class.

“You okay?” I couldn’t help but ask, glancing over my shoulder
at Colin when I sat down.

“Never better,” he replied through clenched teeth.

“Somehow I just don’t believe you.”

His eyes were narrowed, mean. “Oh, Sam. You always could read
me like a book. You’re so awesome.”

“Whatever.” I turned back around, my heart sinking. So I guess
he’d decided to start hating me again.

It should make me happy that he’d finally learned his lesson.
Stay away from Samantha Day. Still, his unexpected sarcasm felt like a slap.

He groaned a few moments later. “I’m sorry. I’m having a lousy
day, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Like I said, whatever.”

I didn’t want him to change his mind. I wanted him to hate me.
That would make everything much easier.

Mr. Saunders walked into class right on time and glanced at the
thirty students. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I finished grading your
tests from yesterday. Congrats to those with the highest scores. For the rest of
you...well, better luck next time.”

Right. Our test on
Catcher in the
Rye
. Part of me relaxed at hearing he’d been grading. Grades. School.
And especially English, my favorite subject. They calmed me. I read everything I
could get my hands on—novels, new and old, trashy and high literature. I
devoured words like I devoured...

Well, not a good comparison, really.

But I loved to read. I loved how authors put words together on
the page to invoke images and feelings. While I hadn’t totally decided what I
wanted to major in once I got to university—and I still hadn’t given up hope of
this possibility, no matter how bleak things got—I felt strongly that I wanted
to be a writer of some kind. I’d always journaled. I’d always written short
stories and poems to entertain myself.

They say to do what you love and you’ll never work a day in
your life.

For me, English Lit was what I loved. By far, my best subject
in school.

“Ms. Day?” Mr. Saunders called my name and I rose from my desk
to go to the front to claim my test. He held it out to me. “Have to say, I was
disappointed.”

I looked down at it.

A bright red “F” stared back at me.

There wasn’t even a plus sign involved.

There had to be a mistake. “I got a—an F?”

“Maybe next time you should read your assignment. Just a
suggestion.” He looked past me. “Mr. Edwards?”

With that, I was dismissed. With the first F I’d ever gotten in
my life. For an essay on a book I’d already read. And loved.

This couldn’t be happening. I tried to rationalize it, but
failed.